


Looking In From the Outside

by carolej126



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 18:11:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4029700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolej126/pseuds/carolej126
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally published in Road Trip With My Brother 11 (Agent With Style, 2012)</p><p>What do outsiders think of the Winchesters?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking In From the Outside

I hardly knew them. Oh, I’d introduced myself a few weeks earlier, when they had first moved into the motel room just three doors down from my own. 

And I’d learned their names: John, Dean, and Sammy. 

I passed them every once in a while in the parking lot, climbing in or out of that big black car of theirs. And once, I ran into the older boy in front of the soda machine, sliding money into the coin slot and then carrying his Coke back toward his room.

But that was it. 

Which was why it was such a shock to find myself standing outside their room, with a wad of cash in my hands and two small boys peering out at me.

“Just for a few hours,” John had promised, explaining that he’d been called into work unexpectedly. 

I had no clue what kind of a job he had. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure he had a job. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the times I’d see their car in the parking lot. So, if he did have a steady job, it wasn’t one with regular hours. 

But, who was I to talk. I was a temp myself, called in to work, or not, on a daily basis. Maybe he was, too. 

I guess it really didn’t matter.

The boys didn’t know what to make of me, that was very clear. 

I didn’t know what to make of them either. It wasn’t that I hadn’t been around small children before. I’d spent plenty of time babysitting, making a few dollars during my high school years, and then again whenever I was in between jobs. And I’d enjoyed it.

But there was something different about those two boys. 

I made the first move, smiling at them as I entered the room, but to my surprise, they promptly backed up, out of my reach.

Okay, that was strange, but… understandable, I guess. They didn’t know me from, well, Eve. A slightly familiar face, maybe, but still a stranger.

I didn’t push it, letting them have their space. All I’d been asked to do was to keep an eye on them, no preparing meals, no bath time, and no making sure – in Dean’s case – homework was done. So I took a seat on the threadbare couch in front of the television, turned the set on, and out of the corner of my eye, watched them.

It wasn’t long before Sammy approached, or at least, tried to. The two year old had barely taken a step in my direction, when he was headed off by his brother. It was pretty clear that Dean was very protective of his little brother. He wasn’t rude about it, simply directing Sammy in another direction. But the expression on his face made it very obvious that no one, not even the woman entrusted to babysit, was going to take over his job: that of taking care of Sammy.

I settled back with a sigh. Money was money, and I certainly needed it. But somehow I knew that it was going to be a very long “few hours.”

*******

I couldn’t help but look at the car when it pulled in. The sound, the purr alone would have captured my attention. And that Impala was a thing of beauty. 

I’d made it a habit to check out each car as it pulled into the bay. You have to do that when you’re the lone attendant at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. There are too many people out there that wouldn’t hesitate to pull a gun on me, just to make off with the fifty or so dollars that I had in the cash register.

I didn’t get that feeling from this one, though. Yeah, the driver was a bit scruffy looking, so I kept an eye on him as he was pumping his gas, but my gut told me that he was just a regular Joe, traveling the back roads by himself for whatever reason, his mind on his own business. 

It only took him a few minutes, and then he was heading for the building. I had my speech all ready, the one that the station owner had impressed on me from the very first day. We didn’t make much of a profit on the fuel, so it was my job to push the snacks and other assorted items as customers came in.

The bell above the door jingled, and he entered the store, heading straight for the register. He did glance around, I noticed, but it was more of a wariness that I saw, than a desire for any of the store merchandise. He seemed satisfied, though, with his quick inspection, and had his wallet in hand when he approached me.

I had just opened my mouth, managed to get out a “we’ve got some snacks if you-“ before he cut me off with a gruff “just the gas.” I nodded, figuring he probably just wanted to get home.

I took his money, handed him his change, and mumbled a “thanks” as he headed back toward the door.

It was at that moment I noticed the movement in the back of the car. Two small heads, if I was seeing clearly. Huh. He wasn’t traveling alone after all. I watched him make his way across the pavement to the car, saw him open the driver’s door and get inside. But not before I saw the brief smile that lit up his face when he glanced into the back seat.

*******

I didn’t even have to wait for him to order. He always ordered coffee for himself, and milk for the boys. So, I had their drinks ready as they came through the door.

Honestly, those two little boys were the best behaved youngsters I’d ever seen. They followed their dad to the booth in the back, and took their places, the older boy waiting for his little brother to slide across the vinyl seat and into the corner. 

They didn’t reach for their milk either, instead they waited for their dad to nod before they moved. Some might say they had too good of manners, that maybe they’d been taught with a heavy hand, and maybe I was just a bit naïve, but that’s not what I saw at all. 

He looked tired, their dad – no, exhausted. And he was a bit more slumped into his seat than usual. But he still smiled when I handed him a menu.

I didn’t know why I even bothered. He always ordered the same thing. At first, I thought it was based on cost. But after some thought, I changed my mind. Now I think he made his decisions based on quantity, not price, and certainly not quality. Not that any of our food was bad, but… No, he ordered whatever dish would provide the most food for the three of them. So, the “all you can eat” plate was his go to meal, regardless of what it is. 

I really enjoyed watching the boys as they waited for their food to arrive. One thing we always provided for the children who came into our restaurant was a coloring sheet with a small box of crayons. It wasn’t long before the two boys were each coloring his own paper, and I had to laugh when the younger boy proudly identified each color before using it.

It all reminded me of my own boys when they were little. Although I don’t think my Davy was quite as patient a big brother as this one was.

*******

He was smooth, I’d give him that. Barely nine or ten years old, barely tall enough to reach the high counter. But bold.

He was lugging one of our shopping baskets in one hand, and trying to pretend that it wasn’t too heavy for him to carry. 

When he’d first come in, he had darted a few looks back toward the parking lot, so I figured he had someone waiting out there for him, although I didn’t know why anyone would send him inside to do the shopping by himself. Then again, I had seen disabled parents send kids in to pick up groceries a few times. A few drunk ones, too. 

He hefted his basket up on the counter, and waited for me to total up his purchases. A gallon of milk, two loaves of bread, and a few cans of soup. Came to just under five dollars. He watched me bag everything up, then handed me a handful of singles.

I took them, counted them one by one, and then reached into the register for his change.

He was smiling. So was I. But not for the same reasons. 

The thing was, I’d been watching him from the first moment he entered the store. I’d seen what he’d done. The things he had hidden where they wouldn’t be noticed.

And normally I would have said something. But not this time. Most kids that shoplift take candy, or gum, or soda. Sometimes they try to make off with the latest porn magazine or a carton of cigarettes.

But not this one. I’m not sure how he managed it, but he’d concealed several packs of crackers and a small container of jelly, along with some peanut butter, all under his jacket. I barely even saw the tell-tale bulge, and I knew they were there. 

But I had to wonder… Why would he be taking food, when there’s so many other choices, so many things that would appeal to a young boy? I didn’t really want to examine that too closely, think about why a nine or so year old would need to steal food.

So, I just smiled. He knew that I knew. And he wasn’t caught off guard, or embarrassed. Not in the least. He just held my gaze, as if daring me to say something.

But I didn’t.

*******

I hated to bother him, I really did. I didn’t think I’d ever seen anyone so intent on research as this one, and I had seen plenty of students at work.

He’d been at it for hours, pushing those long bangs of his out of his eyes every so often. When I came in at ten o’clock this morning, he was already situated in that chair, and at almost five o’clock, he was still there. I didn’t think he’d even taken a break, or if he had, it was so short, I didn’t even notice.

The table he’d claimed was covered with books, some open, some perused and closed, along with a couple of notebooks. He continued to scribble away as I watched, his bottom lip clenched between his teeth. Whatever he was working on, it certainly seemed important.

For some reason, though, I didn’t think it was school work, the typical “if I don’t get this paper in on time…” situation. No. The look on his face was more than serious, it was desperate.

And that troubled me. I thought maybe it was some kind of medical research, following a grim diagnosis. If so, he had a long road in front of him.

I’d been there, not all that long ago.

He worked for several more minutes, and then his head came up, and he looked around. I think the falling silence was what captured his attention. 

I tapped my watch meaningfully when he met my gaze. Unfortunately, rules were rules, and closing time had arrived. He nodded his acceptance, and started to gather up his notes. 

I offered to save the books he’d been using, so he wouldn’t have to go searching for them again the next day, but he just shook his head. 

But for some reason, I had the impression that there was a glimmer of optimism, of hope, that wasn’t there before.

I hoped it was true, and that he had found what he needed. 

*******

I knew what I was going to find when I got there. After all, it had been on display every single time I’d checked.

It wasn’t that unusual, I guess. I’d had other guests who preferred to take care of their own needs, rather than let someone from housekeeping into their room.

And it wasn’t always for some illicit reason. 

I knew there were two of them, two young men, staying there. But I’d only actually seen one. 

At first, I had to rely on a description, for what it was worth, from Madge at the front desk. She said that the one who came into the office to get a key was tall, dark and handsome. She said that about pretty much everybody, though, and I’d suspected for a while that she needed new glasses. So I didn’t believe her.

Until I got a look for myself, that is. It was just a quick glimpse, but I had to admit that her description was spot on.

And she said that there was another man, one with long hair, waiting in their car. A big black car. She didn’t get a good look at him, though, and I hadn’t seen any sign of him. 

I finally spotted tall, dark and handsome two days after they checked in. I was making my usual cleaning rounds, finishing up in one room and heading for another, when I saw him. 

He’d just got out of his car, and was heading for his room, key in one hand, several shopping bags in the other. At first I thought he might have been out making a food run. There’s certainly enough fast food places around here, along with a grocery store just around the corner. And our snack machine has a limited assortment at best. If it’s not completely empty. But, I recognized the logo on those bags: Taggart’s Medical Supplies.

That brought to mind a whole different scenario: that the other man was sick, maybe too sick to leave the room. 

I kept an eye out after that, watching to see if either of them would make an appearance. But I didn’t see any sign of them. And their black car didn’t leave the parking lot, or at least, not when I was there. 

I was tempted to tap on the door, ask if they need any towels or more coffee for the coffee maker. But I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Because a Do Not Disturb sign meant exactly that. 

*******

I’d never seen anything like it. And I had seen a lot in my two years on the job.

At first I thought we were dealing with two victims, from the condition of the carpet and the way that both of them were drenched in red.

But, no, it was just the one sprawled on the floor. 

It only took a moment to determine their names and assess the situation: Sam, Dean, and arterial bleeding. 

Sam had already lost way too much blood, and was about as transparent as a ghost.

Dean was almost as pale, but his pallor wasn’t due to an injury. It was because of what he was doing. And, the realization that if he removed his fingers from his brother’s arm, blood was going to start spurting again, and Sam just didn’t have any to spare.

Not if he wanted to survive.

My partner and I set to work, gathering what we’d need. But we didn’t disturb Dean’s hold. That would have been fatal in and of itself. In fact, I told him not to move until we were ready to take his place. 

But honestly, I knew it wouldn’t be easy, convincing him to let us take over. He hadn’t even looked up at us. All of his concentration was on the young man he was hunched over so diligently.

What he was doing, it spoke of determination. And a refusal to give up. He definitely knew he held his brother’s life in his hands. Literally. But the odds were not in his favor.

And time was running out. 

What I had to do was persuade him that it would be in Sam’s best interests, for him to allow us to get to work. That in the end, there was a chance we could save his brother, if only he’d let us try. 

I exchanged a quick nod with my partner, and then I was ready. I moved closer, leaning in so I was in his line of sight. “Hey, buddy, are you ready to let us-“ 

That’s all I got a chance to say. Dean’s fingers, his hold didn’t falter. But the expression on his face changed, from desperate fear to tentative hope. And as he looked up at me, he only managed to get out one word: “Please.” 

*******

They were a sight for sore eyes. Or any eyes.

Both of them were tall, one slightly taller than the other, and good looking. Really good looking. A few years apart in age. With a slight resemblance that spoke of family, maybe even brothers. And they had captured the interest of every woman in the bar, young, old, single, married, pretty, and not so much. 

Including mine, of course. Because while I may have been old, I wasn’t blind, and those broad shoulders and tight jeans would have certainly kept my attention for a while. Never mind the bowlegged look one of them was sporting. It had reminded me of my late husband in his prime, and that was a long, long time ago. 

I’d seen a lot of men come into the Riverview Bar over the years, and those two were different. I saw it right away. 

It wasn’t that they didn’t know how handsome they were. They did. In fact, while the younger one blushed a bit, the older one definitely knew he was creating a stir, and enjoyed it. 

But while that one may have been the type to love ‘em and leave ‘em, I had the feeling that it wasn’t that simple. That he’d treat a woman right, whether her response to his flirting was a “yes” or a “no.”

I was content with my life, I really was. But I still found myself wishing that I was a few years younger. Like thirty. 

Because I would have liked to find out, to have the opportunity to say “yes.” 

But I knew that was never going to happen. So, I just sat back, nursed my last beer, and enjoyed the performance.

 

~end~


End file.
